


the things we do (how i think of you)

by fromthemist



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Sakusa Kiyoomi, Breathplay, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Top Miya Atsumu, Wall Sex, for omi kinda, sakuatsu are university professors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:27:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29553513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromthemist/pseuds/fromthemist
Summary: Kiyoomi, at his core, is a creature of habit. But there are habits – and then there’sAtsumu.↳bottomi week 2021, day 3, creampie:university professors au, fwb, wall sex
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 21
Kudos: 333
Collections: (seijoh_amour), Bottomi Week 2021





	the things we do (how i think of you)

**Author's Note:**

> hello, welcome back to horny hours with nebbia. i am back with some actual pwp since my last attempt ran away from me, and i didn’t even put that much plot in this time!!! there may be a kink or two in this that might not be to everyone’s taste, so please read the tags and pretend you do not perceive me through this fic ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ 
> 
> as always, a huge thank you for my beta [nicki](https://twitter.com/ttodomomo), and i hope you enjoy! ♡

Kiyoomi, at his core, is a creature of habit. He enjoys the reliability of routine, the assuredness of the familiar – the comfort of a small sliver of control in a world where uncertainty is almost always guaranteed. He’s become far less stringent about things as he’s grown older, but many things remain the same, even after all these years. 

The face mask that he wears out, removing it only when he’s teaching or at home. The lint roller and hand sanitizer that he carries in his briefcase, replaced and refilled every two months. The cozy warmth of his office, filled with his decade-old collection of plants and the ever-present smell of dark roast coffee. The pride that fills him when a student’s face transforms from frustration to understanding to awe, finding the beauty in words that Kiyoomi first fell in love with almost fifteen years earlier. 

There’s one thing, though, that’s new – one thing that has eroded Kiyoomi’s restraint so thoroughly that he can barely recognize himself anymore, the one thing that has flipped Kiyoomi’s entire life up on its head. 

His most recently developed habit, and by far his worst one, is Miya Atsumu: newly hired assistant professor, and current bane of his existence. 

Kiyoomi isn’t sure when, or how it happens – how they go from trading insults to scrabbling at each other’s clothing in dark stairwells and behind locked doors. By the time he finally stops denying the truth to himself, it’s too late. In the span of four months, Atsumu has managed to graft himself into Kiyoomi’s very being, so deeply that he can’t get enough of him – 

“Looks like _someone’s_ eager.”

– which brings Kiyoomi to the present. 

He glances at the entrance of the faculty lounge, belly swooping at the sight of Atsumu leaning against the open doorway. The cocky expression makes Kiyoomi’s hands itch – he wants to wipe the smug smirk off of Atsumu’s face. He wants to watch Atsumu’s features crumple in agonized pleasure, wants to see his cheeks go red and flushed as he sinks himself into – 

“Shut up and lock the door.” Kiyoomi exhales slowly, toes curling as he tamps down on his runaway thoughts. “Did you bring…?” 

Atsumu kicks the door shut, flicking the deadbolt carelessly before emptying his pockets. “Condoms and lube, as yer royal highness commands.” His eyes gleam, expectant. “Didn’t know ya get off on bein’ caught, Omi-omi.”

Kiyoomi only responds with a scowl – he can still recall a time when the mere thought of having sex outside of the privacy of his apartment would’ve had him balking. It’s a little frightening to think about just how much Atsumu has managed to get under his skin, turning him into someone he doesn’t even recognize anymore, but fucking in the bathroom during faculty dinners and in alleyways behind bars isn’t the same as hooking up at work. 

A small, rational voice in his head reminds him that _not_ fucking Atsumu while on the job is also an option, but the gnawing itch crawling under his skin overpowers whatever is left of his sanity. Besides – it’s been almost three weeks since they last fucked, and Kiyoomi is so pent up that he’s pretty sure that this won’t take long.

“If I was trying to get caught, I’d just suck you off during your office hours,” Kiyoomi deadpans, waving Atsumu over impatiently. They only have so much time before morning classes end, and Kiyoomi is _not_ looking to get caught with his pants around his ankles – literally – by the other professors in the department. “If anything, it might stop your fan club from clogging up the faculty corridors.”

That makes Atsumu laugh, quickly crossing the room to crowd Kiyoomi up against the wall, a thick thigh nudging his legs open. The condoms and lube are tossed haphazardly onto a nearby table, too far for Kiyoomi to reach, but the inconvenience is forgotten when Atsumu leans forward to bury his face into Kiyoomi’s shoulder.

“Ya might actually be onto something there,” Atsumu muses, turning to nose at Kiyoomi’s quickening pulse, nudging the collar of his sweater with his chin. “All that gigglin’ is drivin’ me nuts.“

Kiyoomi snorts, but a sharp nip to his ear has his head falling back with a sigh. “And here I thought you enjoyed the attention.” 

“Only when it’s comin’ from someone worth my time.” Atsumu takes the unspoken invitation and runs with it, hand settling heavy across his throat, thumb pressing into the soft underside of Kiyoomi’s jaw. “Not those spoiled, squealin’ pigs who all think they’re gonna be the next Pulitzer winner.”

The warmth of Atsumu’s palm has his eyes fluttering. “I’m swooning,” Kiyoomi huffs, trying to sound flippant, but his breath catches when Atsumu shuffles even closer. Pinned against drywall, supported more by Atsumu’s thigh against his cock and the hand at his throat, Kiyoomi can’t help but groan as Atsumu yanks up his sweater, snaking up under the cashmere to roll a nipple under his thumb. 

It sends a jolt of arousal shooting straight down to Kiyoomi’s groin, intense enough to make his dick kick in his slacks – strong enough for Atsumu to feel from where it’s nestled in the cradle of Atsumu’s thigh and hip, stiff and aching. 

“Yeah, ya are.” Atsumu’s breath ghosts across his cheek as he draws back just far enough so he can peer into Kiyoomi’s face, eyes half-lidded and enthralled. “Barely touched ya and yer already this hard, Omi – looks like ya missed me, huh?”

At Atsumu’s taunt, a needle-thin spike of embarrassment shatters the haze clouding Kiyoomi’s thoughts. He scowls, ignoring the way Atsumu’s callused palm scrapes across his throat as he swallows.

“I didn’t ask you to come here just so you could run your mouth, Miya,” Kiyoomi says, breathless, and Atsumu chuckles.

“But ya _like_ it when I talk, don’tcha?” The knowing smile spreading across Atsumu’s face feels too perceptive, and Kiyoomi bares his teeth, willing away the flush rising in his cheeks. It doesn’t help that Atsumu is still cupping his chest, languidly circling his nipple and coaxing it into a stiff bud. “Ya like it when I’m tellin’ ya how pretty ya look all desperate for my cock, beggin’ for me – ”

“And I’d like it even better if you could shut up and get on with it,” Kiyoomi snarls, grabbing Atsumu around the waist and using the leverage to roll his hips with a low moan. The friction is both delicious and not nearly enough – and by the way Atsumu’s shit-eating grin slackens into a needy hiss, Kiyoomi isn’t the only one who thinks so. “ _Quit stalling and fuck me_.”

“Oh?” Atsumu hums, and Kiyoomi’s vision swims as Atsumu bears down on him even harder in retaliation, nails clawing a path down his torso and digging into his ribs, the hand at his neck tightening ever so slightly. “Dunno if you’re in a position t’be makin’ demands, Omi-kun.”

It’s a reminder of who’s supposed to be in charge, a warning pressed in by the scrape of Atsumu’s calloused palm against the thin skin of Kiyoomi’s throat. Firm and heavy, the weight fuels the lust raging in his gut, and every lingering thought fades when Atsumu leans in to catch his lips in a bruising kiss.

It’s rough, just the way Kiyoomi likes it, and he goes a little boneless as Atsumu presses closer, harder, deeper. He reaches up and around to pull Atsumu even closer, licking into his mouth, and Kiyoomi can feel the Atsumu’s palm shifting in response. The fingers at his throat loosen, circling around to his nape and spearing into his hair before tugging sharply once, then again.

Sparks shoot straight down to his toes, making every hair on his body stand up. He can’t quite bite back his gasp, mouth falling open as the pleasure-pain has him squirming, but Kiyoomi doesn’t have time to think before Atsumu pulls him back in.

This time, Kiyoomi recognizes the sharp coolness as Atsumu sucks at Kiyoomi’s bottom lip, a tingling trail left in its wake. Toothpaste, Kiyoomi realizes, after a moment – spearmint and fresh, the aftertaste lingering as their tongues twist together. He revels in the slight sting, feels the heat bloom in his stomach at the knowledge that Atsumu had brushed his teeth prior to meeting up, and the thought makes Kiyoomi arch into Atsumu’s chest with a ragged mewl, hiking one leg up and rutting against Atsumu’s thigh.

Atsumu swallows the sound with a hum, breaking the kiss and dodging Kiyoomi’s efforts to chase him. His thumb follows the edge of a hipbone to dip teasingly past Kiyoomi’s waistband, moving the way he does when he wants to drag things out and make Kiyoomi beg, and the suggestion of it is enough to make desperation fester under Kiyoomi’s skin.

(He ignores the fact that they’ve fucked often enough to recognize this.)

“Fuck – _Miya_ , c’mon – _c’mon_ – ” 

Atsumu laughs. “Ya sure?” he murmurs, mouthing at Kiyoomi’s throat. “Seems like yer doin’ just fine on yer own.”

A frustrated growl spills out, and Kiyoomi bucks his hips again. The fabric of Atsumu’s shirt crumples even more beneath his palms, thin enough for him to feel the firm muscle hidden beneath. “You’re such a fucking tease – ”

“Ain’t teasin’, Omi.” The rumble of Atsumu’s voice has him going still. “Just waitin’ for ya t’stop bein’ such a brat an’ ask _nicely_.” 

_Nicely_. Kiyoomi knows exactly what Atsumu is asking for, and something twists in his core when Atsumu draws back to wait, eyes bright and expectant. There’s a moment where the stubborn side of him digs its heels in, an automatic refusal threatening to burst out, but Kiyoomi bites it back as Atsumu’s eyes cut pointedly up to the side. 

The clock stares down at them mockingly, and he grimaces. They’re wasting time – _Atsumu_ is wasting time, because he’s an asshole who gets off on making Kiyoomi’s life difficult – 

“Well?” A sharp tug at his hair forces Kiyoomi’s attention back. “C’mon – use your words, _baby_.”

The nickname drips like honey, sweet and syrupy, and Kiyoomi can’t hold back the shudder that runs through him. There’s a smirk curling at Atsumu’s mouth, a wolfish gleam in his eyes – a look that never fails to make Kiyoomi’s gut twist in anticipation – and Kiyoomi takes a slow breath, swallowing the hot rush of embarrassment that settles in his belly. 

He hates it, but they both know that Kiyoomi is going to give in. 

He always does.

“Please,” Kiyoomi keens. “Please, daddy, _fuck me_.” 

“There we go.” Atsumu coos, and Kiyoomi hisses when the hand at his hip drops to roughly palm at his cock. “Ya gonna be good for me, Omi? Gonna let daddy take care of ya?” 

The pressure nearly makes his knees buckle, twisting Atsumu’s shirt into his fists and eyes slipping shut. “ _Yes_ , yes, I’ll be good – ”

Atsumu lets out a pleased hum, but doesn’t stop. He presses the heel of his hand against the hard ridge of Kiyoomi’s length, thick fingers dipping down to rub over his balls, and Kiyoomi can feel the precum dripping into his underwear, the sticky mess spreading every time Atsumu moves. Faintly, Kiyoomi thinks that there must be a wet spot showing through his slacks – his groin feels too hot, the cotton of his briefs catching on his cockhead with each pass of Atsumu’s hand.

It’s gross, but whatever discomfort he feels is quickly forgotten in the waves of pleasure that wash over him as Atsumu works him to full hardness, all through the fabric of his pants. 

“Nnngh – oh _god_ , _a-ahh_ – !” 

“Keep moanin’ like that and I’ll hafta fight off half the fuckin’ department,” Atsumu murmurs, and it feels like the sound of his voice is sliding over Kiyoomi’s skin. “God _damn_ , ya look good enough to eat, Omi.”

Kiyoomi’s stomach twists at the words, tension winding in the base of his spine, and he rocks against Atsumu with a soft groan. He _wants_ that – he wants to be devoured, to be taken apart and fucked. He wants to feel the rough drag of skin against skin, however Atsumu wants to give it to him: with the warm strength of his hands, the wet heat of his mouth, the thickness of his cock –

“ _Fuck_ – “ Kiyoomi buries his face into Atsumu’s shoulder, nails coming up to scratch at the dark hairs of Atsumu’s undercut. “Please, I need – I need to – ”

Atsumu chuckles into his ear. “I know, I’ve got ya,” he says, rolling his thumb over the tip of Kiyoomi’s dick one last time before tugging up the hem of Kiyoomi’s top. “Arms up.” 

Kiyoomi scrambles to obey, flinching at the shock of cool air when Atsumu whips the sweater off in one smooth motion – but instead of tossing it aside the way Kiyoomi expects, Atsumu flips the garment right-side-out, shaking out the wrinkles and straightening out the sleeves.

“What are you...?” 

“Hm?” Atsumu pauses mid-fold, glancing up questioningly. “Am I doing it wrong?” 

Kiyoomi blinks in bewilderment. “... no, but it’s better not to fold it, so it doesn’t wrinkle – ”

And Atsumu – Atsumu just nods. “Roger that,” he says, and proceeds to carefully lay Kiyoomi’s sweater across the back of a nearby chair. Kiyoomi watches in muted confusion as Atsumu strips off his tie and jacket, dumping them far more carelessly on the seat of the same chair, and for some reason, Kiyoomi’s heart does pathetic little flip in his chest. 

Atsumu, however, doesn’t seem to notice his internal turmoil, opting to scoop up the bottle of lube and step back into Kiyoomi’s space after sticking it into his pocket. Kiyoomi instinctively wraps his arms around Atsumu’s shoulders, head dropping to watch Atsumu undo his pants with practiced efficiency, and he can’t help but hiss when Atsumu finally pulls out his cock, rubbing a palm over the weeping head exactly as Kiyoomi likes it.

(Atsumu knows a lot about what he likes, Kiyoomi realizes. He doesn’t want to think about what that could mean.)

He swallows, trying to stifle the whimper sitting at the tip of his tongue. “ _Nngh_ – ”

“Shh, shh...” Atsumu coos, rubbing circles into the dip of his hipbone as his other hand continues to spread precum over Kiyoomi’s dick. “How d’ya want it? Hands, mou – ?”

“Mouth.” It’s not even a contest, and Atsumu chuckles against the side of his head.

“Whatever my baby wants,” he says, and Kiyoomi’s heart skips another beat. He’s rewarded with Atsumu’s face nuzzling into his curls, and his cock jerks when Atsumu lowers himself to his knees, tugging Kiyoomi’s slacks and underwear down with him. Kiyoomi bites back a shudder when Atsumu leans in, taking a moment to admire his dick up close, before wrapping his lips around the tip.

Soft and wet and sweltering; it’s the only thing he can focus on, everything else fading away. Atsumu hums, tongue swirling over whatever he can reach as he takes nearly half of Kiyoomi’s length in one go, and firm fingers wrap around what’s left, spreading the mix of saliva and precum with slick, practiced motions. Kiyoomi can only look on in a daze, lost in the warmth of Atsumu’s mouth and the gentle graze of teeth, the sloppy sounds as Atsumu sucks at his cockhead – he feels like he’s on the verge of unravelling, the seams holding him together plucked out one by one, and a familiar tension starts to rise in his sternum.

Atsumu pulls back, Kiyoomi’s dick sliding out with a loud pop, and when he glances up, Kiyoomi almost comes right then and there. Atsumu looks _obscene_ – lips swollen and cheeks ruddy and pupils huge – and Kiyoomi’s thighs shake as Atsumu ducks down to tongue at his balls, tugging at his cock lazily.

“ _Fuck_ , ya taste so good,” Atsumu groans, mouth full, and his eyes roll back when he inhales deeply. “Thought about this for _weeks_ – watchin’ ya cum down my throat, suckin’ ya dry – _”_

Atsumu is out to kill him – he has to be. A ragged moan is dragged out of Kiyoomi’s throat as Atsumu takes him in again, tongue curling over and into his slit, as if trying to drink up every drop of precum – the tight ring of his fingers smooths down to squeeze at the base of his shaft, and the pressure sends him spiraling.

He’s close – so, _so_ close, dangling right at the edge of a precipice, but the firm grip keeps him tethered, leaving him gasping as his orgasm lingers just out of reach. His entire body goes taut, toes curling and voice breaking as he tries to fight against the firm grip keeping him in place, and he catches a glimpse of a smirk as his cock finally hits the back of Atsumu’s throat.

“I – _oh god_ , I – ” He wants to fuck up into Atsumu’s mouth and paint his tongue; he wants to watch Atsumu swallow every drop of his cum and chase the taste of himself on Atsumu’s lips. “Daddy, I – _ah, ah_ – !”

Then, he feels it. The slick slide of lubed-up fingers – _when did...?_ – rubbing over the skin behind his balls, drawing shapes up towards the pucker of his ass. Kiyoomi tightens instinctively at the first touch, flinching – pinpricks shoot up his spine, and another spurt of precum spilling out as he continues to balance on the brink of his peak. He has to curl his hands into fists, nails digging into the meat of his palms when a thick digit slips inside, smooth and easy.

Atsumu pauses, eyes flashing, and pulls back. “Don’t tell me…” He prods at Kiyoomi again, this time two digits thick, and his face lights up when Kiyoomi whines, his hole fluttering before accepting the intrusion just as easily as before. “Yer just beggin’ for it, aren’t ya?”

There’s a snarky retort sitting at the tip of his tongue, but Kiyoomi chokes on the words when Atsumu presses another finger alongside the first pair. The stretch shifts into a sting, sharp enough to make Kiyoomi choke, even after all the work he did to loosen himself up this morning – the thickness of Atsumu’s knuckles catch on his rim as he shallowly thrusts in and out, and Kiyoomi feels like he’s seconds away from clawing out of his skin, ready to burst.

“ _Nngh_ – ” He tries lifting a leg to take Atsumu’s fingers deeper, only to be stopped by the fabric pooled at his ankles. Everything _aches_ , a sob spilling out. “Fuck, _fuck_ – daddy, please _please_ – ”

“I know, I know,” Atsumu croons, nipping at his hip. He shoves his fingers just a little deeper, crooking them to brush over that sweet spot, and Kiyoomi _wails_. “Yer doin’ so good – just a little more, yeah? Promise, m’gonna take such good care of ya – ”

Atsumu takes Kiyoomi’s cock into his mouth again, cheeks hollowing as he sinks down – and down, and _down,_ and – 

_Fuck. Fuckfuck **fuck**_ – 

There’s a hot rush that floods him when Atsumu loosens his hold on Kiyoomi’s dick, a lightheadedness that threatens to whisk him away as Atsumu stares up at him. The sight of plush lips stretched wide, with fingers stroking his prostate and the squeeze of Atsumu swallowing around his cock – it’s all too much. 

“ _Oh god_ – ” 

Kiyoomi just manages to slap a hand over his mouth before he breaks, white bursting behind his eyelids as he screams into his palm, and his entire body shakes with the force of his orgasm, rolling over him in unending waves. The pleasure is overwhelming, his chest pinching to the point of pain as he tries to remember how to breathe, and he scrabbles for purchase against the wall, trying and failing to find something to help anchor him.

And then – a warm palm comes up to catch his wrist, sliding up to thread their fingers together, and Kiyoomi releases a muffled cry, squeezing Atsumu’s hand as tight as he can. The digits in his ass slip out as Atsumu eases off his softening cock, and Kiyoomi has to fight to stay upright, knees nearly giving out when Atsumu laps up the final few drops of cum dribbling from his tip.

“Ya did so well, baby,” Atsumu murmurs, voice hoarse. “So good, so pretty, cummin’ so much for me – ”

Kiyoomi keens, half-delirious from the high of his orgasm, and heaviness starts to settle into his limbs, the exhaustion hitting all at once. Arms fall heavy to his sides, hand slipping from Atsumu’s hold as he starts to sway, and it’s only Atsumu’s reflexes that keep Kiyoomi upright – he surges up to pull Kiyoomi close before he stumbles, pressing him into the wall and nearly knocking into his chin, and Atsumu lets out a muttered curse.

“Oh _, shit_ – _”_ Kiyoomi pays it no mind, head swimming as he stares up at Atsumu sleepily. He faintly registers Atsumu’s worried expression, but his attention is captured entirely by the sight of red, saliva-slick lips. He wants to _taste_ them. “Omi – hey, are ya okay? Kiyoomi – _mmph!_ ” 

Kiyoomi cuts him off abruptly, grabbing the back of Atsumu's neck and hauling him in for a kiss, fingertips digging into flesh. He takes advantage of Atsumu’s surprise, savoring the flavor of his own cum as he traces over Atsumu’s palate, and Atsumu quickly relaxes, melting into the tender nip to his bottom lip. Atsumu quickly takes over, licking into his mouth and suckling his tongue, but it’s gentler than the first time. 

It’s _slower_ – almost sweet – and it leaves Kiyoomi in a limbo state of fuzzy warmth and muted sensations, his heartbeat drowning out everything but the way Atsumu envelops him. It feels like Kiyoomi’s been wrung dry, drained of the tension he’d been holding onto for the past few weeks.

(A part of him glows, soft and sated and _safe_ ; another part of him trembles, afraid of what it could mean.) 

When Atsumu finally draws back, pressing a final kiss to the corner of his mouth, Kiyoomi feels less like he’s on the verge of floating away, a little more human. He sighs, taking the chance to look at Atsumu properly – ruddy cheeks and bright eyes, honey-gold and heavy with pleasure – and hums as Atsumu smooths a palm across his back. His other hand draws a path up Kiyoomi’s side, climbing the ladder of his ribs and tracing the curve of his pec, before coming to a rest right over his heart. 

Atsumu’s voice is quiet. “Still with me, sweetheart?” 

Kiyoomi nods, the remnants of his climax bleeding away as his eyes slip shut, palms smoothing back down to Atsumu's pecs. He can feel Atsumu’s chest rising and falling against his hands, a puff of air against his cheek – he tilts his face up, baring his neck so Atsumu has free access to nuzzle along the line of his jaw, forehead coming to rest in the crook of Kiyoomi’s shoulder. 

“Wanna stop here?”

Kiyoomi shakes his head. 

“Ya sure?” He feels a kiss land on his collarbone. “We can keep goin’ later, after ya finish yer classes. No rush.”

Something strange throbs inside him, but Kiyoomi pushes the feeling away. “I think I’ve waited long enough,” he says, and lets his hands slide down to hook into the waistline of Atsumu’s slacks. “I want you inside me, daddy. _Please_.”

Atsumu exhales loudly, letting out a breathless laugh. “ _God_ , when ya say it like that – ” The fingers at Kiyoomi’s back press a little deeper, and he arches into the pressure, mewling when Atsumu circles his nipple with a teasing, featherlight stroke. “ – I ain’t gonna say no.” 

Four hands fumble with Atsumu’s belt and fly, undoing them in record time, but Kiyoomi starts tugging at Atsumu’s briefs immediately, pushing them down until he can tuck the waistband below Atsumu’s balls.

 _Finally_.

Hot to the touch, Atsumu’s cock curves up towards his stomach with precum beading at the tip, bobbing as Atsumu shoves his pants and underwear down to mid-thigh, and Kiyoomi feels his own dick twitch at the sight. It’d be easy to just drop to his knees, return the favor and let Atsumu fuck his mouth, but they don’t have the luxury of time – a quick peek at the clock shows that he only has thirty minutes before he has to be teaching a writing seminar.

Kiyoomi arranged this entire meeting for the sole purpose of getting fucked. He isn’t going to leave until he gets what he came for.

A shift in weight, a turn – Atsumu lets out a startled yelp when Kiyoomi presses his chest into the wall, shivering when his nipples touch the cool surface. He spreads his legs, hips pushing back until his body makes a perfect curve, and the hot line of Atsumu’s cock settles against his ass, leaving a trail of wetness across the skin as Atsumu jerks back in surprise. 

Kiyoomi glances over his shoulder impatiently. 

“Well?” he asks, less of a question and more of a demand, and Atsumu’s lips widen into a fox grin: toothy and sharp, colored with a hungry edge. 

Kiyoomi jolts when a sharp smack lands across his ass. “Be patient,” Atsumu huffs, “or I’ll leave ya like this for the rest of the day.” 

The words are lighthearted, but Kiyoomi knows that the threat is all too real – he’d learned that the hard way – so he sulks a little as he waits. There’s the sound of ripping foil, the snap of latex and a squelch, and Kiyoomi closes his eyes when he feels Atsumu press two freshly-lubed fingers against his ass, liberally spreading the cool liquid across his hole. He squirms when the touch disappears, mouth falling open when it’s quickly replaced by the slick slide of Atsumu’s cock between his cheeks, the tip rubbing up and down Kiyoomi’s crack. 

“C’mon, c’mon – ” he pants, shuddering when Atsumu’s cock finally catches on his ass. Kiyoomi’s own dick jumps at the touch, and a familiar, simmering tension pools in his abdomen – he keens, legs shifting a little wider to better savor the kiss of Atsumu’s cockhead against the puffy edge of his rim. “Give it to me, please, _daddy_ – ”

The anticipation makes Kiyoomi curl his hands into fists, face plastered against the wall as blood thunders in his ears, and he’s so caught up in his head that he nearly misses Atsumu’s next words.

“Okay, okay –” Hands settle on either side of his hips, squeezing. “Just remember, baby. You _asked_ for it.” 

And with that, Atsumu presses _in_ – intent and insistent even when Kiyoomi tenses and whines in pain. There’s no pause, no hesitation as Atsumu pushes past his rim and works himself deeper; the intrusion burns, teetering just over to the side of pain more than pleasure, and it drags out a hoarse cry from Kiyoomi despite all of Atsumu’s earlier efforts to loosen him up. All he can do is sit there and _take_ it, trying to breathe through the breach, and Kiyoomi nearly shouts when Atsumu tilts his hips just enough to slide in those last few centimeters, bottoming out. 

“ _Fuck,_ I missed this,” Atsumu sighs, grip tightening on Kiyoomi’s waist. “How the hell are ya still so fuckin’ _tight_ – ”

Kiyoomi just hisses in response, his head swimming from the conflicting sensations of too much and not enough, and he gasps when Atsumu’s fingers thread into his curls, holding them tight by the root. Atsumu leans forward, pulling at his hair until the pricks of pain at his scalp have him going cross-eyed. 

“Ahh – _hah_ – !” 

Atsumu groans, low and pleased. “Gonna give ya just what ya need, Omi. Gonna fuck ya ‘til yer cryin’ on my cock – gonna fill ya up so _good_ – ”

The words are punctuated with another short tug, and it’s Kiyoomi’s only warning before Atsumu flexes his hips, drawing back and snapping forward in a sharp thrust that has Kiyoomi clawing against the wall, nails sliding uselessly over the smooth paint. There’s nothing he can hold onto, nothing that can muffle his moans as Atsumu starts to fuck into him – he sets a punishing pace, pulling a long, wounded sound from Kiyoomi’s throat every time he bottoms out. 

Each thrust feels deeper than the last, and Kiyoomi is almost afraid to move. It feels like he’s one breath away from being split in half, like Atsumu is hollowing him out with his cock, carving him open and making a place for himself in Kiyoomi’s body – it’s like Atsumu everywhere, in his stomach and chest and _throat_ , heavy and thick.

“ _God_ , ya were made for this, baby.” Atsumu coos, pace quickening, and Kiyoomi cries out when another smack lands on one cheek. “Made to get fucked, made for my cock – a perfect fit, my personal little fucktoy – ”

Kiyoomi soaks in the praise, revels in it as Atsumu continues to pound into him. He closes his eyes, trying his best to swallow back the pulsing heat rising in his belly, and he doesn’t have to look down to know that he’s hard again, dripping and desperate and embarrassingly close. It’s the damp breaths fanning across his face and the sticky slap of skin against skin, the fingers digging into his waist, deep enough to leave a set of perfect bruises behind – it’s _Atsumu_ , giving Kiyoomi exactly what he needs, working at him until he’s being taken apart with near-surgical precision. 

Atsumu, who fucks the way he teaches – masterful and playful and deliberate, with the ability to break and remake someone’s world with just a few words. Atsumu, who’s managed to make Kiyoomi into another one of his unsuspecting victims, prying Kiyoomi open until he’s laid bare for Atsumu to devour whole.

(And Kiyoomi, who’s been pulled into Atsumu’s orbit, isn’t sure if he wants to be set free.) 

“ _Fuck_ , ya feel so _good_.” Atsumu leans forward, chest plastered against Kiyoomi’s back, and the angle sends him plunging straight into Kiyoomi’s prostate. “So soft, so pretty for me – _nngh,_ wanna fill ya up ya so bad – ”

Kiyoomi lets out a cry as Atsumu drives into the same spot, biting his lip as the pressure in his spine tightens, ready to snap at any moment. It’s rare that he lets anyone fuck him bareback, more for the convenience of clean up than anything else, but the thought of having Atsumu’s cum in his ass – it has him weakly rocking on his heels, doing his best to meet each of Atsumu’s thrusts, and he whines when Atsumu’s pace suddenly falters to a standstill, panting against Kiyoomi’s nape. 

“W-why… why’d you – ?” 

Kiyoomi tosses a confused glance over his shoulder, and golden eyes stare at him – hungry, just shy of pleading. 

“Can I?” The hand in his curls loosens, sliding down and around to stroke over Kiyoomi’s quivering abdomen. “It’ll feel so _good_ , baby – got so much saved up for ya – ”

His cock kicks at that. “B-but I – ” Kiyoomi falters, brows furrowing, torn between _yes_ and _not yet_. “It’s… it’s _messy,_ I don’t – ”

“I’ll help ya,” Atsumu whispers, and the words sound more like a promise, sending goosebumps erupting across his skin. “I’ll lick ya clean, fuck all my cum out with my tongue – or I’ve got a plug in my office – ”

Kiyoomi’s breath catches. He has just enough presence of mind to croak, “You keep a _buttplug_ in your – ?!”

“I brought it in when ya texted me this mornin’,” Atsumu croons. “S’that one ya like – nice an’ soft, big enough t’keep ya from makin’ a mess ‘til yer done with classes – “

Kiyoomi grits his teeth, his traitorous mind conjuring up a mental image vivid enough to make his stomach flip. The thought of spending an entire day with Atsumu’s cum inside him shouldn’t be this hot, but being forced to bite back a moan whenever he sits or walks, having his hole kept stretched and stuffed and ready to be filled by Atsumu’s cock again – 

“Okay,” he whimpers, trembling as he feels the tension in his belly tightening. “Yes, okay, _yes_ – ”

Atsumu exhales heavily. “ _Fuck_ , alright, don’t move – ”

He mutters a curse as he pulls out, dick slipping from Kiyoomi’s ass with a lewd squelch. It’s loud enough to make Kiyoomi bury his face in his arm shamefully, goosebumps erupting across his bare back at the loss of Atsumu’s body heat – he listens as Atsumu strips off the condom, flicking open the lube bottle, and the anticipation puts him even more on edge. 

“ _Hurry_ ,” Kiyoomi gasps. Through the blood rushing through his ears, he thinks he can hear the slick sounds of Atsumu lubing up his cock. 

There’s a low hiss. “M’comin’, _m’comin’_ – ”

Kiyoomi resists the urge to look back, taking a shuddering breath when he finally hears the dull thump of something hitting the table. Something eases in his chest when a hand curls over his ass, kneading the cheeks and spreading them apart to make room for the blunt head of Atsumu’s dick – Kiyoomi can’t help but arch his back a little deeper in invitation, sighing as Atsumu lines himself up and presses in, raw and bare. 

“ _Fuuuuck_ ,” Atsumu groans, and Kiyoomi lets out a cross between a choke and a curse as his rim swallows up Atsumu’s cock, straight down to the hilt. “Look at ya, takin’ it all in yer cute little hole – ” 

There’s a moment where everything stills, Kiyoomi’s heartbeat loud in his ears as he tries to regain some semblance of control. It’s partially the angle, partially the lack of condom, but Atsumu feels even bigger like this – all-encompassing and hot and thick, the sweet stretch of toeing the edge of _too much_. Even the slightest shift in weight has Atsumu’s dick dragging roughly against his insides, and Kiyoomi feels himself fluttering, squeezing, and clenching as if his body is trying to coax the cum out of Atsumu right then and there.

By the strangled groan he hears, it’s a near thing.

“ _Fuckin’ hell_.” Atsumu’s voice cracks, and the grip on his hip tightens, keeping him still. “ _Baby_...”

There’s a hint of steel in Atsumu’s tone, but Kiyoomi doesn’t care. “ _Daddy_ ,” he whines, and he can feel himself teetering at the edge of his peak, holding on only through sheer force of will. “Wanna cum for you – wanna cum _with_ you, please, daddy, _please_ – ”

Kiyoomi isn’t sure what causes it – whether it’s the _daddy_ or the neediness dripping from every word, the way he’s trembling from the effort to keep from cumming. Whatever it is, he sends a silent thank you to whatever benevolent god is out there watching over him, because a heavy palm slides up to settle on his lower back, thumb smoothing across the dimples just above his ass – and Atsumu finally, _finally_ , starts to fuck him.

He starts out slow, quickly working up to a faster pace, but Kiyoomi crumples against the wall after the third thrust, lost in the sensation of being filled so deeply. He just presses back, mouth falling open in a soundless scream and eyes fluttering shut, and the burning, delicious ache has his own dick twitching, dribbling onto the floor. Tears pool at the corners of his eyes, but the more he bears down on Atsumu’s cock, the easier it gets – the better it _feels_ , getting fuller and fuller with each grind.

“Fuck, yer suckin’ me in so tight – ” Atsumu growls, the sound rumbling against Kiyoomi’s back. “Gonna give you every drop, baby – wanna watch it drip outta yer pretty ass, fuck it all back inside, keep ya stuffed with my cock and cum – ”

Kiyoomi’s vision goes blurry, eyes rolling back at the filthy words. He feels dizzy and overwhelmed, a heady weight settling into his limbs, and he’s _close_ – he can feel the bloom of heat in his chest, the pressure threatening to burst. There’s something swelling inside him, the promise of pleasure fraying at his restraint, and he just needs a little more to push him over that edge.

“Yes, yes, yes – oh god, _please_ ,” Kiyoomi babbles. “Fuck – _a-aah_ – !”

He doesn’t notice the hands skimming up to his nipples until thick fingers start to pluck at the stiff buds, pinching and rolling them roughly. The sudden stimulation has Kiyoomi jackknifing away from the wall, back bending at an impossible angle as the tension in his gut suddenly doubles, and it’s like this – with Atsumu wrapped around him, holding him, _inside_ of him – that Kiyoomi lets go. 

If his last orgasm was like hurtling off the edge of a cliff, this one pulls him under like an embrace, rising to fill his entire body with sweet, blessed relief. He feels like he’s suspended in water, floating as the rest of the world falls away, and all that’s left is Atsumu – the firm body along his back, the fullness of his hole, the fingers still playing with his chest. Pleasure ebbs over him as the last spurts of his cum splatter against the wall, and Kiyoomi moans when Atsumu’s movements get sloppier, shortening to a dirty grind that has him riding out the aftershocks of his orgasm over Atsumu’s length.

Dimly, he feels Atsumu’s palms sliding back down, settling on his waist as Atsumu hooks his chin over Kiyoomi’s shoulder. The press of Atsumu’s cheek against his neck is damp, his hands tightening and his grunts rising in pitch – Atsumu’s breath start to go ragged, and when he blindly reaches out, it’s Kiyoomi turn to catch Atsumu’s hand, clutching their entwined fingers to his sternum.

“Omi – m’close, m’so – _f-fuck_ – ”

“ _Daddy_ ,” Kiyoomi mewls, nuzzling his cheek against Atsumu’s hair. “Give it to me, _please_ – fill me up, make me _yours_ – ”

Atsumu’s hips stutter, once, then twice – and Kiyoomi closes his eyes as liquid heat spills inside him, a deep, dirty groan muffled against his shoulder. Atsumu’s cum is so _warm_ , thick enough that Kiyoomi can feel the slippery change in friction when he clenches down, and Atsumu is _still_ coming, cock throbbing as he continues to rock their hips in a slow roll.

It takes a few more moments before Atsumu finally sags against Kiyoomi’s back, lips brushing against his clavicle. He then tilts his head, nudging at Kiyoomi’s jaw to press their mouths together, and Kiyoomi hums as Atsumu lazily traces the seam of his lips, drawing him into a kiss. It’s _tender_ , stoking that little glow nestled inside him until he feels like he’s about to burst, and something unfurls in his chest. 

(He’s not sure what to think about the soft, almost reverent expression on Atsumu’s face – he’s not sure if it’s just his imagination, projecting what it wants to see.)

When Atsumu finally draws back, he meets Kiyoomi’s gaze with a tired grin, stroking a thumb over Kiyoomi’s hand. “I think that was the best nut I’ve had in my entire life.” 

Kiyoomi feels his heart sink a little. It’s crude and ridiculous and so quintessentially _Atsumu,_ but that blissful haze still dissipates into a hollow sort of disappointment. He swallows, reminding himself that it’s just the endorphins and adrenaline clouding his better judgement – he shouldn’t expect anything to be different. 

“Your eloquence never fails to impress, Miya.” He rolls his eyes, scoffing.

“What, no ‘ _daddy’_ this time?” Atsumu teases, peeling himself away from Kiyoomi’s back. He gently pulls out, and both of them hiss from the sensitive pull of skin against skin. 

“Not when you say things like _that_.” Kiyoomi lets go of Atsumu’s hand, wincing when he hears the lewd, wet pop of Atsumu’s cock slipping free. Something wet immediately starts to trickle from his ass, even as Kiyoomi clenches to try and keep the mess inside him. “Ugh _,_ that’s _disgusting_.” 

Atsumu doesn’t have the same reservations, letting out a low whistle. “S’gorgeous, that’s what it is.” Kiyoomi jerks when Atsumu swipes up the mix of cum and lube, following the line of his thigh and curve of his bottom to push the wetness back inside him. “When’s yer class again?”

“In about fifteen minutes.” Kiyoomi pauses, turning to frown at Atsumu suspiciously. “.... Why.” 

Atsumu’s smile is anything but innocent. “Perfect,” he chirps, and plants his palm in the middle of Kiyoomi’s back, pushing him back up against the wall. “Don’t move.” 

Kiyoomi scowls, twisting against Atsumu’s hand in an attempt to protest, but his mouth goes dry when he sees Atsumu’s face. He’s licking his lips, staring down at where his cum is leaking around the fingers pressed in Kiyoomi’s ass – there’s an almost hungry gleam in his eye, and Kiyoomi starts to shake his head. 

It’s written all over Atsumu’s face. 

“Miya, _no_ – you said – ” 

He pays Kiyoomi no mind, dropping to his knees. “Fifteen minutes, yeah?” Atsumu grins, pulling the digits out and making a show of sucking them clean, and to Kiyoomi’s displeasure, he can’t look away. “I’ll eat ya clean in ten.”

**Author's Note:**

> atsumu makes good on his promise, kiyoomi arrives at his class on time (though looking thoroughly fucked) and back in atsumu’s office, a buttplug waits for its turn, dreaming of a sweet embrace.
> 
> some notes!  
> \- title adapted from 'talk' by hozier  
> \- i listened to 情人 by kun (ywy version) on repeat while writing this… the vibes are just great but i can probably sing it from memory now lol  
> \- originally this was my attempt to push my lit prof!omi agenda, but it ran away from me yet again.  
> \- nebbia is a free elf and will now go consume all the horny; she’ll make a not-so-grand return for bottsumu week. thanks for reading!  
> \- oh yeah also uh remember to wrap it up, safety is sexy!!
> 
> p.s. if anyone has twitter, my username is [@dalla_nebbia](https://twitter.com/dalla_nebbia) \- feel free to drop by and say hi!


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